


Comfortember 2020

by ffdemon



Category: Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game), Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: Alcohol (mention), Alien Culture, Anxiety Attacks, Domestic Fluff, Eli'van'to protector of navigators, Ezra going home, Families of Choice, Family Reunions, Fluff, Huddling For Warmth, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Miscommunication, Nightmares, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Star Wars: Rebels, Pregnancy, Rescue, Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order Spoilers, Survivor Guilt, Unplanned Pregnancy, Wedding Planning, Zeb is the best uncle, idiot in love, like a lot, rebel kallus, timeline I don't know her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:20:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 11,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27944441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ffdemon/pseuds/ffdemon
Summary: Fifteen short story written during comfortember.  Summary at the begin of each chapter. Update daily1.Rescue (Thranto) - 2.first day/night (kalluzeb) - 3. Nightmare (ghost crew) - 4.Anxiety (Pre-Thranto) - 5. Cuddling (Zeb&Jacen) - 6. affray to sleep (Eli&Thrawn) - 7. Blanket fort (Eli&Un’hee) - 8.Confession (Kalluzeb) – 9.campfire(Thranto) - 10. Protective(Zeb&Hera) – 11. Hot cocoa(Thranto) - 12. hug (Cal Kestis&Zeb) – 13. Kisses romantic or platonic (Hera&Ezra) -  14. Going back to school/work (Kallus&Zeb) - 15. Make/build/create something beautiful(Kalluzeb)
Relationships: Alexsandr Kallus/Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios, Cal Kestis & Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios, Ezra Bridger & Hera Syndulla, Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios & Hera Syndulla, Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios & Jacen Syndulla, Space Family (Star Wars Rebels), Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Eli Vanto, Un'hee & Eli Vanto, kanan Jarrus & Hera Syndulla & Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios & Sabine Wren & Ezra Bridger
Comments: 61
Kudos: 115





	1. Rescue (Thranto)

**Author's Note:**

> After years stuck together, Ezra and Thrawn got rescue. And Thrawn has some revelations.

When Bridger first spotted the small ship coming their way, Thrawn thought for a moment that they were both suffering from some kind of mass hysteria. He’d never expect to see a Chiss’ shuttle that far from the Ascendancy, and even less that his people would have worked so hard to get him back.

“I’ve never seen that kind of ship before. Do you think they are friendly?” The young human mutters as they watch the craft land in a clearing not too far from their camp.

“Seems we will have to find out,” Thrawn answers as he picks some weapons. He wishes he could really know, but he’s not sure if they are getting rescued or arrested. Or if they are really Chiss in this shuttle. He can feel Bridger’s eyes fix on him as they use the hidden bridges they have built the high trees. Most predators on this planet are on the ground. 

“You know who they are,” Bridger comments.

In the first year, he would probably have accused Thrawn of hiding information or of not of trusting him. But after being stranded for more than five years together, the human only sounds resigned to the facts.

“It is a craft designed by my people,” Thrawn finally answers.

During their period of isolation, Thrawn has learned that the best way to go is to give the young man some answers if he wants to have some peace. Bridger asks enough questions to make his head spin.

“You told me that we aren’t even close to Chiss’ territory,” Bridger replies. This time, he can hear the mistrust in his words.

“We aren’t. The stars and constellations are nothing like the ones that I know from the Ascendancy or the Empire,” Thrawn says and frowns. “Now stay quiet…a Chiss ship doesn’t mean that it’s friendly.”

Ezra takes his place beside him, weapons in hand.

From their hidden vantage point, they watch the passengers of the ship walk down the landing ramp. The first is tall and wrapped in a white coat and hood. Their body language is calm, but Thrawn can tell that the person is expecting something. The way that the cape rests on the head reminds him of a Twi’lek or a Togruta. The second one is a teenage Chiss girl in what looks like a navigator uniform. At least she doesn’t look like a prisoner.

Bridger gasps softly and closes his eyes. Thrawn recognizes it now as the sign that he is using the Force. Thrawn raises his weapon in case something has happened. 

The two people look up in the direction of their hiding place.

The Ozyly-esehembo turns toward the ship and says something. She is too far away for him to understand what she says, but it sounds like Sy Bisti, and she is clearly excited.

Bridger moves at the same time. “Ahsoka?” He mutters. Thrawn grabs his wrist as his eyes catches the two other people moving down the ramp: what looks like a woman in a colourful Mandalorian armor, and…

“Sabine! Ashoka !” Bridger yells as he gets out of Thrawn’s grip and just jumps down.

“Ezra!” Wren exclaims as she runs toward him.

It was a touching reunion, probably. But Thrawn only has eyes from the last person moving down the ramp: Eli Vanto. The man he has mourned the idea of never seeing again, and yet, has always known that he would be looking for him. Still, he feels a true surprise to see him standing there. Thrawn grabs one of the ropes and makes his way down to the ground in a more reasonable fashion. The Jedi seems to need to be extravagant.

Eli’s smile is sincere as he walks toward him. The way that he moves is more measured than before, and he is showing an assurance in his movement. He has grown a beard, and it strangely gives him authority but doesn’t take anything of his charm. Thrawn feels some pride to see that he is now holding the rank of Senior Captain.

He had known that Vanto would find his place with his people.

“Good day, Grand Admiral Thrawn,” Eli says when they finally close enough.

Thrawn opens his mouth to answer, but he cannot find the words. Eli’s little jab is more than deserved. Thrawn had regretted saying those words to him for a long time after he had seen the hurt in Vanto’s dark eyes.

“...Thrawn?” Eli asks softly, his hand touching the bare skin of his arms.

The Chiss knows that he probably looks like a mess. His once pristine uniform is in shredded and dirty, and his hair is longer than he has ever grown it before. Also, he isn’t blind to how this reunion eerily resembles their first ever meeting, back on the forest planet.

“It seems we have come full circle,” he answers, looking at Eli. “You are rescuing me again.”

The brown eyes fill with tears before two-arm wraps around his neck. “This time, I’m bringing you home,” Eli whispers in Thrawn’s native language of Cheunh.

“Eli Vanto…I’m already home now,” He whispers. 

Thrawn closes his eyes and hugs him back.


	2. first day/night (kalluzeb)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zeb and Kallus first night on Lira San.

Zeb likes to watch the sky during the night when he cannot sleep. He has done this since he was a kit, sneaking out on the balcony of their house to look at the constellations. He knows Lasan’s old star maps like the back of his hand, and he has continued that tradition with Lothal and Yavin. It was like re-reading his favourite book: familiar, comforting and relaxing.

But the sky of Lira San is so different. 

It is like beginning a whole new book, in a language in which you aren’t fluent. Zeb finds it challenging, but interesting too.

“I seriously don’t see how you can think that those dots make a meiloorun,” Kallus comments from where he rests against Zeb’s warm side. “Maybe, we should ask Lady Chava for a star chart.”

“Lady? You are way too polite. Wait until she bullies you around, and you won’t say that again,” Zeb snorts. “Sure it is an idea, but I like the thought of trying to make our own.”

During their time on Yavin, Kallus has joined him on top of the temple for some stargazing, drinks, and a simple, sweet moment. It has been the first of many steps that bring them from two friends into the relationship they now have today.

“Made our own luck, uh?” Kallus chuckles softly. He reaches to run his fingers through his partner’s beard.

Zeb tears his eyes from the sky, making a soft purring noise as he leans into Kallus’ touch. “Isn’t that what we’ve done for years?” He asks. “We manage well enough.” Zeb brings him onto his lap, rubbing the other man’s cheek against his. “I mean this is the first night of our new life, and we can do whatever we want.”

“I like the sound of that,” Alex murmurs. He rubs Zeb’s cheek back, before he kisses him softly upon the lips.

Human and lasat kisses: a mix of two traditions. It is the way that their new life will be, and somehow, it is perfect.


	3. Nightmare (The Ghost Crew)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares are common on the Ghost.

Nightmares are common on the Ghost.

More often than any member of the crew wants to confess. 

Nobody actually mentions it. Not when Hera seems to have slept in her pilot's chair; that is, if she has dozed at all. Kanan disappears into his room and quietly meditates all day. No one bats an eye when Zeb nearly trashes the cargo hold doing his really crazy Bo-rifle forms in the middle of the night. If Sabine is snappy and passes more of her day painting or tinkering in her room, they let her be. And everyone knows that when Ezra becomes their quiet shadow, that things aren’t going so well for him, either. 

But the fact that they don’t mention it aloud doesn’t mean they don’t do anything about it. 

On a bad day, Hera will discover that some of her favorite treats have been prepared. She’ll find a cup of her favourite caf and a flaky pastry waiting for her in the galley, along with a novel ready for her on the data pad and waiting for her in the wicker chair. 

Kanan will be pulled slightly out of his meditation by the feeling of another member of the crew sitting with him silently nearby. When he finally opens his eyes, he will find them reading, cleaning weapons, or playing some game quietly in his presence. 

Zeb will suddenly find a sparring partner joining him. Not a word is said until they are both sitting against the crates, sweaty and exhausted from battle, half-asleep now and feeling much better inside their bodies and inside themselves. 

New parts for an explosive or paint bomb will magically appear in front of Sabine’s door. Always, these are accompanied with some kind of treats.

And Ezra will walk into the main room, with the whole team ready to share a meal together with him. He finds himself pressed between two or more of them, safe and sound with his new, loving family.

The Spectres cannot make the nightmares go away. Not entirely. But there is one thing that they can do well: they can take care of each other.


	4. Anxiety (pre-thranto)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s another month: and another time that his superior has managed to get himself court-martialed again. This time it doesn't sit well with Eli.

Eli has stopped counting the times that he has walked these same corridors with Thrawn. By this time, he could probably make his way from the entrance to the courtroom of the headquarters of the Imperial Army and Navy in his sleep. 

It’s another month: and another time that his superior has managed to get himself court-martialed again.

Eli follows Thrawn from one step behind, trying to ignore how his stomach twists painfully and how his heart is attempting to go outside of his chest. What if, this time, Thrawn doesn’t convince their high command that he can do what must be done? What if he cannot prove that the result has been worth the bending of the Navy’s rules?

What would happen if, this time, Thrawn is arrested?

He knows the Commodore never comes here unprepared, and that all of his actions have been calculated. But Eli has been in the navy long enough to learn a few things about the other high-ranking officers: that most of them hate Thrawn; that they want to see him fail hard; and that they aren’t shy to use their connections to achieve such goals.

How long will it be before benefactors like Grand Moff Tarkin finally decide to cease their support of Thrawn form backstage? What will happen then? 

Eli is so lost in his own mind of turmoil that he doesn’t even realize that Thrawn has stopped walking and bumps into his back. He blinks a few times in confusion. Eli knows that they are at least a whole hallway away from the courtroom. “Sir?” he manages to say, with surprise at how tight his throat feels.

“Breathe, Lieutenant Commander,” Thrawn’s smooth voice orders. It isn’t as hash as the one that he uses on the bridge, but a far softer version. 

Without thinking, he takes a few breaths, mimicking the ones of his superior.

Eli lowers his head a bit in shame. He feels so embarrassed to act like this. Usually, he always manages to keep his cool, except when they are meeting the emperor (yet no one can really blame him that time). When he was only an ensign, he did not have so much to lose; but now, when he has finally reached a rank, and… 

And, he doesn’t want to give up what they have. 

Doesn’t want to give up being at Thrawn’s side. Thrawn is one of the only people that has ever seen something in him. He is someone who has believed in him, provided him with a role and a purpose.

“Do not worry,” Thrawn says in Sy Bisti. “Everything would work out. I won’t allow them to take away your promotion.” 

Eli smiles weakly. Even from behind the other man’s back, Thrawn knows how to read him. That simple promise in his voice seems to dissipate the pressure in his chest, allows him to breathe easier. 

“I know sir,” he replies in the same language. 

As he says it, he realizes that it is true. Eli trusts the man who is his superior and his friend.

Aware the hallway is empty, Eli allows his forehead to rest against Thrawn’s back for a few seconds, soaking in his strong and calming presence. The Chiss is kind enough not to comment, moving only slightly so he hides Eli better with his body. And, after a minute or so, the human has the strength to straighten up again. 

“We'd better continue before we are late.”

Thrawn tilts his head, his red eyes fixing on him. In the first years of their partnership, this would have made Eli uncomfortable. Now, it is oddly comforting. 

“Very well,” the commodore says. 

As he turns back toward their destination, both of their breathing paired now in a natural rhythm, Eli Vanto walks right beside him.


	5. Cuddling (Zeb&JAcen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While he’s out of commission because of a freak accident ion Hoth, Zeb hasn’t minded babysitting his nephew

"Unca ’eb!” cries out a voice. 

Zeb jumps a little as he sits up straight. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep on the small couch. He blinks a few times to focus his eyes on his nephew making his way to him, pulling his loth cat plush behind him. The child is barefoot on the cold floor of the Hoth base quarter.

“Jacen, what are you doing?” Zeb demands. He picks the toddler easily with one arm, as the other is still wrapped in the healing steri-plast case. “You should be asleep.” 

“No sleep,” the boy mumbles as he presses his face against Zeb’s neck. “Mama home?”

Zeb runs his hand softly in Jacen’s green hair. The question doesn’t surprise him; the boy has been asking for his mother every hour or so. It is not often that Hera is gone for more than a day without her son. But this time it is a high risk mission, and she didn’t want to put her son in danger. And, as he’s out of commission because of a freak accident in one the tunnels, Zeb hasn’t minded babysitting his nephew.

“Not yet. But they are on their way back,” he says softly.

“Miss mama,” Jacen whimpers. His large, teal eyes fill with tears.

“Hera is missing you too, buddy. That’s why her, Aunt Sabine, Uncle Kallus, and Chopper are doing this mission as fast they can.” Zeb rocks the boy gently. “I miss all of them too. It’s normal to feel that way.” 

“Missing ’hop?” Jacen asks.

The lasat makes an exaggerated face of disgust. “Chop? That rust bucket? Yeah, not so much.” Jacen giggles softly, then suddenly yawns. “Let’s go get you back to bed, little buddy,” Zeb says.

“No! NO!” Jacen shakes his head as he begins to fuss. “Waiting for mama.”

“Okay kit, we can stay up a little longer. But she will be upset if she comes home and finds us awake that late,” he finally concedes. 

Zeb reaches for a blanket lying around Hera’s quarter and wraps Jacen in it. The Lasat rests back on the couch and cuddles the boy against his chest. The furniture is way too small and his legs are dangling to the ground, but he doesn’t care.

Jacen’s eyes are already closing as he snuggles more against Zeb’s arm. “Stowy?”

“A story…mmm.” Zeb rubs Jacen’s back with his large hand. “There was one that my grandmother always told me when I was around your age.” He’s in the middle of the third verse when Jacen’s breath grows even. Still he continues to talk, enjoying this simple time together with his nephew. 

There will be plenty of time for waiting, work, and adventure tomorrow. But for now, it is time for them to just rest.


	6. Affray to sleep (Eli&Thrawn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eli is lost in a snowstorm with only his mind to keep him going. Why does is mind sound like Thrawn.  
> (will continue in chapter 9)  
> tags for this chapter : Hypothermia,

Eli Vanto is exhausted. 

All that he wants to do is lay his head down and sleep. Anywhere. He doesn’t care where, as long as he can close his eyes for a few moments. Even the frigid snowbank around him seems really comfortable.

So why is he still pushing himself like this? Why not just give in and go to sleep? 

“Keep walking, Ensign Vanto,” a quiet voice says in the back of his mind.

It sounds a lot like Thrawn, but Eli’s commanding officer is nowhere to be seen in the snowy, barren landscape around him. Not that he has the strength anymore to look around. Shivering, Eli regrets that he had discarded his uniform jacket. Now, it would have made him a nice pillow.

His vision shifts, mostly becoming white as the snow. Had he fallen? He hadn’t felt his leg give up...  
“Don’t sleep! Get up. Now.” The mind-Thrawn orders.

The young man is really trying to keep his eyes open. He’s never disobeyed the Chiss, and he didn’t plan on beginning now. In his haze, Eli remembers a story from Lysatra about how Chiss' anger is a scary thing; and about how hardly anyone has lived after experiencing it to tell the tale. He will stay awake. He never wants to anger Thrawn.

Suddenly something grabs hold of his arm, making him turn on his back. In the white and gray of the blizzard, he sees a blurry, dark shadow looking down at him. 

“If that keeps you awake, Ensign Vanto, I will not deny you this tale.”

It is Thrawn, and the voice sounds right from above him. Eli wonders if he has spoken out loud. He wonders if this is a dream, or if he is really no longer alone. He tries to ask, but the sudden shift of motion makes him forget. Eli feels like he is floating. His eyes are met with bright red ones. Warm, again his side.

Safe.

Eli finally gives into the temptation of sleep. However, this time, he is no longer scared.


	7. Blanket fort (Eli&Un'hee)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A blanket for might be a bit childish, but Eli want to make something nice for navigator Un'hee.

Eli is not sure what wakes him, but a lifetime in the navy has taught him to feel when something is not right. He forces himself to open his eyes even though he is still so tired, and he feels himself startle awake in the dark.  
Two big, round, red eyes are staring back at him. 

It uses every once of his self-control to avoid not yelling out and recoiling at the first, sudden sight before his eyes. However, the single, shaking sob that breaks the silence is enough to make him realize who this is before him. 

“Un’hee?” he asks softly, reaching to turn on the lamps beside his bed. “Is that you?” 

Eli barely has time to let his eyes get used to the soft light before he finds himself with an armful of young navigator. Un’hee says something, but even though Eli is now fluid in Cheunh, he cannot understand her. Between the sobbing, the speed, and the fact she hides her face in his chest, the words make no sense to him.

“Slow down,” he says softly, running a hand in her long blue-black hair. 

“I’m sorry! I woke up and Vah’nya wasn’t in the room! I feel...I feel too...exposed,” Un’hee whimpers.

It has only been a few months since they had rescued Un’hee from the Grysks, and the girl is clearly still recovering. More than once the Ascendency has ordered that she returns to be with her peers, but the young ozyly-esehembo refuses to leave the Steadfast. 

Not that anyone on the ship wants to let her go. 

Eli hushes her gently. “No need to explain yourself. I told you many times, and it’s still true: you are always welcome here.”

Un’hee only trusts four people in the galaxy at the moment, and three of those are right here: himself, Navigator Vah’nya, and Admiral Ar’alani. And they are all ready to prove to her that this faith is well-placed. They are ready to fight to keep her safe with them. Maybe it isn’t the best environment for a child as traumatized as Un’hee; but if this arrangement makes her feel protected, so be it. 

They are her protectors. 

Un’hee finally begins to calm down, but she holds a solid grip on Eli’s pajama shirt. Her red eyes still look around them restlessly. Eli remembers the girl saying that she felt exposed. Even if his quarters aren’t the biggest, sometimes too much and shadows can play tricks on her.

“Close your eyes for a moment,” Eli states to her. He covers them with his hand before raising his voice. “Light,” he instructs the room. He winces as all the lights turn on, not leaving a single, dark corner. “Better?” he asks softly.

“A little…” she mutters, and presses her face into his chest more.

Eli tries to find something to help her relax and keep distracted. What did he do back home to calm himself down as a child? Not that Un’hee knows any normal child activities anyway, as a Navigator. Oh! Maybe this could work…

“I have an idea. Do you think you could stay here a moment?” Eli asks softly.

“You are leaving?” Un’hee whimpers as her finger dig in his arms.

“No. I will be in the main room. The bedroom door will be open so you can see me all along.” The human promises as he pets her hair again.

“Okay…” She mutters as she finally lets him go, clearly unhappy.

Eli rises and gives her his personal questis. “I put some new music on this. Even managed to get some from my home planet.” 

As Un’hee excitedly begins to check the files, Eli wraps her in one of his jackets. The Chiss Expansionary Defense Force has been kind enough to make his uniform warmer than standard, and that makes his coat weighty. It works like a heavy blanket for the girl.  
He makes sure that she is still happily distracted before he walks to den. 

Yet another positive thing about the Chiss seeing him as a fragile race is that he has more blankets than the standard issue. Eli gets them all out of the closet along with spare pillows, and he begins to arrange everything on the small couch cushion. 

It’s been years since he’s done something like this, and it takes him near fifteen minutes, but it seems cozy and solid when he is done.

Eli moves back to his room and chuckles when he realizes that Un’hee has nearly disappeared inside of his coat. He can only see her eyes and hair behind the questis. She clearly has spied on him. “Come, our fort is ready,” he says as he reaches to pick her up.

“Fort? Are you expecting an attack?” Un’hee asks as she wraps her arms around his neck, still holding the questis. They both know that she is probably too old to be carried like this, but neither care.

“We are in no danger. But I thought you might feel better,” Eli explains. 

They crawl inside the fourth blanket that he has made between his work desk and the couch, making it just big enough for both of them. Un’hee looks around them and she seems to relax. She moves to sit and cuddle against Eli’s left side, situating the human between herself and the entrance. 

“Acceptable?” Eli asks, wrapping his arms around her smaller frame.

“It is silly….but nice,” She replies, taking the questis back up. She starts another song. “Thank you, Eli'Van'to.” 

Eli smiles and close his eyes. It is an old Lysatra’s ballad that his mother had once often played around their home when he was a young boy. He begins to sing along with the chorus, enjoying the familiarity of the sound and the words. Un’hee presses more against him as she listens. He knows that she would have a lot of questions about the song later, but now, they are just enjoying the moment. 

It doesn’t take long before the girl falls asleep.

Gently, Eli picks up the questis out of her hand and reduces the sound. He quickly sends a message to both Vah’nia and Ar’alani so that they will not worry about Un’hee’s whereabouts. With that final piece of work done, he place the square down and rests beside the young navigator. He will probably be sore in the morning, but he doesn’t care. 

Navigator Un’hee and her well-being are absolutely worth it.


	8. Confession (Kalluzeb)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His ears fall back a little. “Okay. I have a confession to make.”
> 
> Alexsandr keeps his eyes on him. But he claps his hands behind his back so that Zeb won’t see how they are shaking.
> 
> “I can’t go one like this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow up to day 2

While sometimes difficult, life on Lira San has been good.

Alexsandr had been nervous when Zeb had first offered to live with him. He is still working on dealing with his past actions, and being around so many Lasat has been hard, but it does seem to help him in healing a little. Some Lasats have been wary of him, and with good reason. A few of them are survivors of Lasan, trying to get their life back on track. Others have never seen a human before, and are watchful about having an alien among them. It has taken a long time, but Kallus has managed to show them his good intentions, and to make his place here among them. And Garazeb’s support and love have been crucial to all this. Without him, Alex could never visualize living as part of the Lasat community.

But that was all before this week.

This week, Zeb has been acting really weird; and Kallus cannot put his finger on what is making him behave with such actions. Time and again the other man will come up to him trying to talk, but end up leaving without a word and looking frustrated. By now it’s really getting into Kallus’ mind. There is that little voice in the back of his head that keeps taunting him. The voice that says it is only a matter of time before Zeb comes to see reason, and realizes that this time with Kalls has been a terrible idea from the start.

Tonight’s dinner is no different. Zeb gives him a not-subtle side-glance, as his ears keep moving in a jittery manner. And he’s so strangely quiet. It seems that he is nervous about something. 

“That’s enough,” Zeb growls suddenly. He gets up and rushes toward their room.

Kallus feels his stomach drop. That was it? No explanation whatsoever? No! They have both worked so hard to get where they are now. To make this better life for themselves. He won't give it up without a fight.

“Don’t be so dramatic Zeb,” he comments, moving after him. “I am sure that if we talk, we will figure things out...” he stops at the entrance of the room, where Zeb suddenly rises and hides one of his hands behind his back. “What is going on? And don't try to say nothing. You have been off all week,” Kallus orders in his best commanding voice.

Not that it ever really works with Zeb.

“Karabast! Look, Alex, it’s not that bad,” The Lasat attempt to reassure him. 

It is without much success. “Garazeb Orrelios! Spill it!” the ex-imperial snaps.

“Don’t know if you learn this from Hera or Chava, but you are kiffing scary,” Zeb says. His ears fall back a little. “Okay. I have a confession to make.”

Alexsandr keeps his eyes on him. But he claps his hands behind his back so that Zeb won’t see how they are shaking.

“I can’t go one like this.” Zeb declares walking closer as he brings his hand from behind his back. “I can’t continue to live in a galaxy where you aren’t my husband.”

Kallus blink furiously as he tries to make sense of what Zeb just says. That is not even remotely on the list of what he was expected. He looks down at what his boyfriend is offering him. It is a necklace. It was made with a gem the same beautiful yellow as the meteorite from Bahryn and there is Zeb’s old honour guard medallion. The leather cords his braid in a traditional fashion that he has only seen a few times here.

Kallus has studied Lira San tradition enough to know what this is: a promise necklace. One partner would give a gift one to the person he wishes to bond with. Something that is meaningful to them and a personal belonging from the one making the demand.

“Are you? Really? I….” Kallus stutters

“I was trying to ask you for a week, to celebrate our one year on Lira San. I keep chicken out or not finding the right words.”

“It has already been a year?” the human mutters.

“Yeah. That crazy, right?” Zeb laughs a little and gently take his hand. “So? What do you think?”

Kallus chuckles. “Did you genuinely assume I will refuse?”

Before he could say something, Zeb bring him against his chest and kiss him deeply. They stay like this for a moment before the lasat move back a bit breathless. He put the necklace around his neck.

Kallus smiles and wraps his arms around his fiancé again.

Life on Lira San is indeed really good.


	9. campfire (Thranto)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thrawn needs to keep Eli warm until helps get them. 
> 
> (mention of hypothermia and huddling for warm semi-naked, nothing sexual)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow up to chapter 6

Thrawn puts a little more wood into the fire to make sure that it is not dying. The small cave is finally warming up, but not as fast as he wishes it would. It is not for him. 

Chiss bodies are made to survive cold temperatures; human physiology isn’t.

He looks back towards the sleeping form of the ensign Vanto.In infrared, the other man seems to be slowly warming up from the combination of survival blanket and campfire. However, Thrawn would prefer if it was swifter. He is worried about the state that he had found the human in, fallen cold and sleepy into the snow. 

Thrawn walks beside Vanto and monitors his vitals. 

He mentally goes over the checklist of hypothermia symptoms, keeping his mind occupied. If not, Thrawn would think of how he had failed to see the attack that had brought them into this situation in the first place.

The insurgents had hijacked their shuttle. Before Thrawn or Eli could react, they had used Vanto as a bargaining chip, trying to make the Chiss surrender. At the time, Thrawn couldn’t yield to them; and by the look in the human’s eyes, Eli had known that too and resigned himself to his fate. Eli hadn’t flinched or begged when their captors had opened the hatch of the transport. His brown eyes had focused on him with so much faith and trust…just before he’d disappeared into the infinite white of the snow.

The Chiss clenches his fist as the memory makes anger burn into his chest. The insurgents haven’t lived long enough to truly regret their actions.

_Concentrate. Vanto still needs me._

_Back to the checklist. Move the person out of the cold: done. Remove wet clothing: done. (Eli would be embarrassed, because humans are strangely so modest about partial nudity at the worst time. Side note: clothes are drying on the rock near the campfire.) Isolate the person from the freezing ground and cover with blankets: done. (Side note: check the shuttle wreckage for more supply when Ensign Vanto is stable.) Monitor breathing and vitals to ensure survival: ongoing._

_Keep the person warm…_ But this slow fire clearly won't cut it. 

There is only one solution. Thrawn quickly undresses down to his imperial standard underwear with quick and effective moves. He moves under the blanket, careful not to let too much chilly air get in the tight cocoon that he’s made around Vanto. Gently, he presses against the other man’s back. The human’s skin feels so cold against his. He probably should have done this earlier.

Eli whimpers, but he doesn’t wake up. He shifts a little to press more again the Chiss’ warmth.

“I have you, Eli Vanto. No harm will get to you,” Thrawn promises. He wraps one arm around the smaller man’s waist, bringing him closer against his own chest. At this, Eli finally seems to truly rest, sighing and relax against him. To his relief, the other man’s cheeks slowly begin to warm, and his whole body begins to have more regular breathing. It appears that he will be okay, so long as their reinforcements arrive soon. 

But now, there is nothing else that they can do; at least, until rescue. Or Eli wakes up. 


	10. Protective (Zeb&Hera)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hera learns about her pregnancy. Lucky, Zeb is there to help deal with this.
> 
> (mention of unplanned pregnancy and tiny reminder of canon character death)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something I wanted to write for so long but couldn't find the right word.
> 
> Again thank you to chocolatemudkip for the amazing beta. It's show so much in that one

Hera keeps looking at the result on the datapad that the medic has given her: _Pregnant._

No matter how many times that she reads those eight letters, it doesn’t make sense. She simply thought that she’d been having a dizzy spell because of how she’s been running around recently, or hasn’t been eating enough. 

But, it seems not.

Hera lowers her head and presses a hand on her still flat belly. It has been nearly two months since that day. Since Kanan had…

 _No._ She can’t voice it out loud. Not yet. 

“I’m so sorry little one…” She says weakly.

The doctor has reassured her that the baby is healthy, but that they are worried for her. So much has happened to her in the last weeks: she’s lost two members of her family; been in a lot of combat; freed a planet from the Empire. She’d even been tortured for kiffsake!

Hera raises her head when the door opens with a light knocking. But she’d expected the medic or someone to update her on the situation in the command centre to enter into the room, and not _Zeb_.

“Zeb? What are you doing?” she says and tries to sit up. He should have been on a mission with all the others.

“You lay down,” he orders gently. His large hand is firm on her shoulder as he pushes her back against the pillow. “I’ll bring you some tea.”

“They haven’t cancelled the mission because of me?” Hera asks anxiously. “We won’t have a second chance…” she is beginning to worry, but Zeb cuts her off.

“No. Everything is going to plan. Kallus and Wedge have taken our places. Now stop stressing: it’s not good for you.“ He presses the cup into her hand. “Here. Drink this, it should help.”

Hera’s shoulders drop a little as the warmth of the cup seems to spread from her hand and relax her tensed muscles. She brings the cup close, smelling what seems like the mountains. It isn’t anything that she is familiar with. She is more of a Caf person anyway, but at the moment, as long it makes her feel better, it is welcome. 

She takes a sip and makes a face. Not that it is bad, but it’s not good, either. It’s really herbal, and with a small touch of something zesty. “What is it?”

“It’s nettle leaves and ginger. Don’t worry, I asked first if it’s dangerous for you and the baby.” 

The Lasat sits down in the chair beside the bed. Hera smiles at the thoughtfulness, knowing that nettle leaves aren’t a plant growing on Yavin IV. If Zeb has this, he’d had to find some off-world, or make a trade. 

Then, she freezes. She hadn’t even told him the news yet.

Zeb seems to understand the surprise and the shock. “I kinda suspect for a few weeks, but I couldn’t be sure. I have no idea if Twi’lek and Lasat work the same. And it feels really inappropriate to ask,” he begins to ramble as he rubs the back of his head. “Anyway, I wanted to be here for you.” 

Hera puts her cup down with shaky hands.

“Oh Zeb….” She whimpers gratefully, and wraps her arms around his neck. Suddenly, she is so relieved that he knows. Hera has been trying to find out how she could break the news to the others. To have her friend on her side at the moment makes everything easier.

Zeb literally pulls her out of bed and holds Hera protectively against his chest. 

Feeling shielded from the world in this embrace, Hera finally lets her emotions out. She cries for her child that would never meet their father; she screams at the universe that has such twisted humour; she begs the Force to make sure the baby will be okay.

Zeb hugs her tightly, muttering gentle words in her ear cones. When she calms enough and manages to compose herself, Hera stays sitting on Zeb’s lap with her head pillowed on his shoulder. At the moment, she only needs to not feel alone in all this.

“So … what tipped you off?” she asks in a hoarse voice.

“Your scent has changed. It is a bit like sweet milk,” Zeb says, his deep voice rumbling in his chest. “Back on Lasan, I have been around the Queen and the fellow guardswomen when they have been expecting. I remember the smell. Of course, I wanted to be sure, so I kept quiet about it.”

“Yet you got plants not from this planet, just in case?” she teases him.

Zeb chuckles. “Good point. I wanted to be prepared. You often forget yourself, Hera, when you are busy helping others. I just wish to give you a little back, for everything that you and Kanan have done for me. Do for me still. For all of us.”

“Zeb. You don’t own us anything,” Hera says, closing her eyes.

“We are a family, Hera. I will do all it takes to care for you and my future nephew or niece.” 

“So, I must expect to have a lasat shadow until I give birth?” she chuckles and looks up at him. Even with the joking, she is overwhelmingly thankful. 

“I thought that you realized that you already have one,” he replies softly.

Hera stays quiet as she recognizes that this is pretty much true. Since they had lost Kanan, Zeb has been a silent but strong presence around her most of the time. Never overbearing, yet there whenever she needs him.“Thank you big guy.” she murmurs.

It will always be hard, raising this child without Kanan. But Hera is feeling more ready to face this oncoming challenge. So long as she has her family at her side. 


	11. Hot cocoa (Thranto)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eli is resting in his quarter after their rescue for the snowstorm. How is he supposed to survive a full day of rest in his quarter when his mind is melting because of boredom?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is a little more pre-Thranto but the feeling is there for both. They just two idiots in love.
> 
> follow up and conclusion to chapter 6 and 9

Eli is going crazy.

It has only been five hours since he has been discharged from the _Thunder Wasp’s_ medical bay, and he does not remember what it means to stand still. How is he supposed to survive a full day of rest in his quarter when his mind is melting because of boredom? He’d already requested to be sent files on his datapad so that he can catch up with work and keep his brain occupied, hoping that he will make it the required duration of medical rest. 

Only to find that Commander Thrawn had already blocked his access to _anything_ work-related.

Eli lets out a frustrated groan before dropping onto his desk chair. He cannot stand being in bed a second more. He has to keep himself busy. Cannot let himself sit still and think. Cannot overthink about...

_...Thrawn._

Eli’s memories of their rescue are still pretty vague. He recalls distant voices, warm and flickering lights, but nothing more. So when he'd woken up in the medical bay, finally coherent enough to see his surroundings, he’d been really surprised to see his commanding officer sitting at his bedside. Thrawn had called the medical droid and, as it had examined Vanto, debriefed him rapidly about what had happened between his fall from their ship until the rescue.

But Eli’s brain had probably still been frozen, because he’d gotten easily distracted by every little detail in how the Chiss had been acting weird. 

Maybe to untrained eyes, Thrawn had been behaving like normal; and yet, not for Eli. There had been a tension in his body that Eli has never witnessed before, and it had increased (along with his own) when Thrawn had explained how he’d kept him warm until the team from the _Thunder Wasp_ had finally found them. 

As he listened, Eli had blushed brightly enough to light up the room. 

“I am glad to see you are awake and coherent,” Thrawn had said when he’d finished his explanation and listened to the full report from the medical droid. “Now, please follow the droid’s instructions. If you will excuse me, I need to return to the bridge.”

And that was the last time he’d seen the other man in thirty-six hours.

Eli knows that being a commodore is a lot of work under normal circumstances; perhaps even more so right now, with the insurgents’ situation, and with the fact that his aide is incapacitated. And yet, he cannot stop thinking that he might have done or said something inappropriate to Thrawn during that big, empty blank of time in his mind, making everything that much more stressful. 

For, as much as he tries to deny it, Eli Vanto has developed feelings for his commanding officer. Not that he’d ever expect anything from it: he’d experienced first-hand how Thrawn held a passion toward his work, and only his work. And Vanto is happy to be at his side, even if that means he probably will be stuck forever as an ensign.

Now Eli hopes that he hasn’t blown up all this effort just because he’d nearly frozen to death and been unable to keep his mouth shut.

As he is mentally debating if he ought to get out of his blanket cocoon and maybe go drown himself in a warm refresher, someone buzzes at his door. Eli looks at the chrono. It is dinner time, so it’s probably just one of the droids bringing him food. “Come in,” he calls, voice hoarse from lack of use.

The door slides open, and Thrawn steps in with a tray. 

Eli groans, and the Chiss raises one of his elegant eyebrows. “The medical droid has been clear about bed rest,” he says as he walks in and puts the trays on the desk. “And I see that you are not in bed.”

“Well, that bed may be okay for a night of sleep, but not so much for extended use,” Eli grumbles. ”My spine threatens to leave my body if I stay lying down a moment longer!”

“That is totally impossible for a human being without being fatal,” the Chiss comments. “But I think I understand what you mean. None of us are used to doing nothing.”

“Yeah…” Eli says. He finds himself distracted. Something on the tray smells really good and somehow familiar. Not like blank navy food normally is. Something much better. His stomach growls loudly. “Is that _hot cocoa_?” he asks, reaching for one of the two mugs. 

_Two?_

“I read that this kind of sweet, warm beverage is a comforting drink for humans,” Thrawn explains as he picks up the second cup. “I attempted to make a Lysatran version, but I fear the mess hall of the _Thunder Wasp_ doesn’t have the variety to get it right.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Eli says softly. He takes a sip a bit nervously.

He could feel Thrawn’s eyes watching him with the intensity that he normally reserves for a piece of fine art. With difficulty, Eli tries to keep his expression as neutral as possible. The hot cocoa wasn’t half bad! Sure, it wasn’t as creamy as it is when homemade, but the same, sweet taste is there, along with an added peek of spice. At least it warms him up.

“It’s good, sir. You did manage something close to the real thing,” he compliments his commodore. “Didn’t know that you had a knack for cooking.”

“How do you think I survived on my exile planet?” Thrawn asks simply and takes a sip of his own mug. The way the corner of his lips lift, Eli is sure that he is amused by this exchange. “I have to say, it reminds me of some beverage from… back in my own home. Maybe, not as strong.”

Eli smiles softly. It is not often that Thrawn slips some information of his planet and life from before they meet. He cherishes those moments and keeps the information close to his heart. “You want something with more kick, huh?” he asks the superior officer with a small grin. “Well, sir, if you are off the clock, there is a bottle in my dresser drawer that can be of use.”

Raising his eyebrow again, Thrawn gets up and moves to the furniture Eli just pointed out. “Kowakian rum,” he says reading the label and looking back at Eli. “You have good taste, Ensign.”

Eli tries to not look him over. He is blushing once again, he is certain of it.

“I know, sir.”

Classy, exotic, and _dangerous_ taste.


	12. hug (cal Kestis&Zeb)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cal freezes when his eyes fall on the other sabacc player. For a second, he thinks that he is facing a ghost: the ghost of his Jedi master, Jaro Tapal. His heart seizes inside of his chest, but he soon realizes that the fur colour and pattern are all wrong. The eyes are different. Still, he cannot stop from staring at the other man. 
> 
> After what had happened on Lasan, he’d never expected to see another living lasat again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I play Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order I wanted a meeting between Cal and Zeb. Time is really ambiguous for the reason I have no idea when this happened. Maybe a bit OOC but Cal deserve a big lasat hug.

Cal Kestis dusts the snow from his hair and poncho as his eyes scan the cantina. With a blizzard warning, the place is pretty empty. Still, on first glance he cannot find Greez. 

Even though Cere did tell him that he would locate the man here.

He makes his way toward the counter to ask the bartender if he has seen the Latero around. Cal stops when he hears a low, warning growl from a booth in the back. BD-1 beeps a few times as he emerges from the poncho’s hood and shakes itself. “Agree with you, BD. Let me make sure that Greez didn’t piss off another syndicate boss or something,” Cal sighs as he turns toward the sound.

“Look, big guy, I won that round fair and square,” Greez’s voice says from nearby.

“No need to rub it in my face,” a deep voice rumbles back.

“Greez, are you making some friends?” Cal asks when he finally reaches the booth and sees the Mantis’s captain. 

He freezes when his eyes fall on the other sabacc player. For a second, he thinks that he is facing a ghost: the ghost of his Jedi master, Jaro Tapal. His heart seizes inside of his chest, but he soon realizes that the fur colour and pattern are all wrong. The eyes are different. Still, he cannot stop from staring at the other man. 

After what had happened on Lasan, he’d never expected to see another living lasat again.

“Hey kid. You okay there?” Greez asks, sounding a bit concerned.

“I’m fine.” Cal mutters and manages to tear his eyes from the lasat and back on his friend. “Cere sent me. There is a storm coming, and she wants to leave before it does.”

“Sorry, but it is too late,” Greez says as he gathers the cards and begins to shuffle them. “I checked the reading and it was too close already. We will crash before reaching space. Better to wait out, like the gentlemen here.”

“Stop talking to the little bogan and deal me the cards! You have four arms, that's more than enough to do it.” The lasat rolls his eyes and mumbles something in lasani.

It is clearly not meant to be heard by the other people around him, but Master Tapal had taught Cal lasani in their free time. He snorts, really not expecting the words. He tries to hide it a cough as both of the aliens turn their glances toward him.

“You understand that?” Greez asks. “He was insulting me all along, wasn’t he?”

Cal rub the back off his neck as the green eyes seem to burn into him. “He’s not technically using an insult. Just commenting on how badly you shuffled the cards.”

The purple alien’s ears flatten on his skull as he gets up. Cal might have grown since his padawan days, but he is still impresseed by how tall and bulky the lasat species are. "Okay, pals. You have only one second to explain yourself," the lasat man says dangerously. 

The low light of the cantina reflects on his canines, bright and dangerous. 

"Someone really dear to me taught me the language during the clone war,” Cal answers quickly. “He was my mentor. You might hear about him … his name was Jaro Tapal," he finishes in a whisper.

The surprise rapidly eclipses the anger on the lasat's face. 

Cal can see the pieces fitting together inside of the taller male’s mind. He realizes then that he gambled a big part of his secret in exchange for not having to jump into a fight. And maybe, he has gained a small talk with this man. His green eyes stare, studying him.

"You know what… With the storm coming, I feel as though we need something to warm up. I'm buying," Greez offers and rises off his seat.

“BD, go help him with that please,” Cal says. 

He is kind of glad that they are giving them a moment to gather themselves. Clearly, there is much to be discussed that only the two of them might understand. The small explorer droid complains, but nevertheless jumps down from his shoulders and follows their captain. The human takes his place on the booth seat, and the lasat does the same but he checks his every move.

“Master Tapal was a legend on Lasan. He was the first of our kind to be accepted to the Jedi order,” the lasat says in a surprisingly soft tone. “I’m Garazeb by the way…Most call me Zeb.”

“I’m Cal… It is nice to meet you, Garazeb,” he answers and bows his head politely.

“Karabast….Been a while since someone pronounced my name right,” Zeb mutters. His ears move in a complicated motion that is both happy and sad.

“Glad I didn’t lose the pronunciation. My master had been really diligent about that part,” Cal chuckles weakly. “Can… I ask when you meet my master?”

Zeb looks pensive for a moment. “You probably know that Lasan was independent from the galactic Republic. The royal family didn’t often have hearings with representatives of the Republic, but when they did, they requested that master Tapal would be present. Being a lasat and a Jedi, the ruling family was sure that he had both interests at heart, and would be an honest mediator.” Zeb’s eyes fall on the clawed hands in front of him. “In the honour guard, I met him a few times during the early days of the Clone war.”

Cal smiles softly. 

That does sound like his master. Jaro Tapal was an exemplary Jedi and a defender of the Republic, but couldn’t ever totally forget where he was from. Its roots were in everything he had trained in his padawan. Beside Lasani, he had taught him some fighting techniques normally used with the bo-riffle staff mode, as well as how to climb mostly anything effectively.

“You know,” Zeb continues, “now that you mention it, the last time I met Master Tapal he told the royal family that couldn’t be a mediator for them for a few years, because he would soon have a student. He seemed really thrilled about it,” Zeb chuckles.

Cal blushes a little and lower his head. His master has been happy to have him as a padawan? He never doubted the older Jedi had some affection for him. But to hear it out loud…

Greez chooses this moment to come back and put the drink on the table. 

“Not often that this happens, but I am going to let you boys talk and move my next game over there.” Without a word he takes his own glass and walks to another booth. Cal is not so surprised; Greez is sitting in a way that he could still keep an eye on him, even at a distance. He is sure that Zeb won’t try to hurt him, but it’s nice that Greez is ready to support him if something happens.

BD jumps back on Cal’s shoulder as the Latero leaves. “What is it, buddy? Worried that he would put a bet you?” the human runs a hand over the droid’s head.

“That’s a bad idea to bet someone else’s droid. I know from experience,” Zeb comments and takes a sip of his glass.

“That sounds like an interesting story,” Cal chuckles softly.

Zeb smiles and begins to tell him what happened. They continue to talk from that part onward of the evening. None of them mention the elephant in the cantinas: the fall of Lasan, the Jedi purge. Instead, they just share in some anecdotes about Jaro, combat, and their mutual colleagues, crew and family.

It’s nice. But it all ends when Zeb’s comm beeps.

“Specter-4, you need to return to the ship before that storm gets worse,” a female voice says. “There is still work to do around here.”

“Copy that Specter-2. I will be there soon,” the Lasat answers and finishes his glass. “Been great to talk to you, kid, But duty calls.”

“Yeah. We should probably do the same before Merrin and Cere worry about us,” Cal replies. They get up in sync. The young man is hit by a wave of nostalgia standing beside the Lasat. In the moment, he allows himself to realize that he does miss his master, deeply.

“Zeb…” he says weakly. The older rebel looks back at him. He seems to study him a moment. “I don't know if we ever see each other again. But I…” Cal begins, not sure what he wants to say.

“Come here,” Zeb declares suddenly. He brings Cal into a hug.

Cal presses his face into his shoulder and hugs him back as strongly as he can.

“It is okay, kid. Survivor’s guilt makes you think a lot of rough things. But trust me: your master would be proud of you, and he would never regret saving you. Never,” he mutters in his ears in Lasani.

The Jedi only embraces him tightly. 

Zeb lets him go after a moment. “If you ever need some help, ask for the rebellion and for the Ghost crew. They will let us know. We are used to your kind.” 

“Will do. Thank you, Garazeb,” he murmurs. After a moment, he adds: “may the force be with you.”

“You too, Cal,” The Lasat replies. He offers him one last smile, then moves outside the cantina.

And, even in the midst of the blizzard and cold, Cal finds himself feeling better than he has been in years.


	13. Kisses platonic (Hera&Ezra)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezra is coming home.

Hera had tried not to lose hope that Ezra was alive somewhere. But at the same time, every anniversary of Lothal’s liberation has hurt her deeply. To lose another one of the members of her small, precious family was more than she could bear, and it made the holiday that much more difficult to bear every time it came around. 

But this year, however, is different. 

Sabin’s message had reached her a few weeks ago, but Hera still cannot believe it: Spectre Six had found Ezra Bridger, and was in the effort of bringing him home. Unbelievable as it all was, the date of their arrival could only make the whole harder to believe. If Sabine’s timing is accurate, they should arrive today: the day before Lothal’s anniversary celebration.

She can hardly wait. 

Hera knows that it is hard to predict your arrival date and time when journeying from so far. Just the flight itself to Lira San, even with a charted road, could be unpredictable because of the hovering star cluster. Even Zeb and Kallus have no idea when they would be able to join her to see their reunited family. It seems as though the unknown region is all the same.

Hopefully, Ezra will be one less unknown among it after just a bit longer. 

Still, that doesn’t stop Hera from landing the _Ghost_ near the watchtower early that morning, waiting for them to arrive just in case. Jacen is delighted: he can play all day with the loth-cats while they wait. The boy clearly has a connection to this planet: more than once, from the comer of her eye, she swears that she has just seen that ghostly, white loth-wolf.

The sun is beginning to settle down, and Hera is about to call her son to come in for dinner, when Jacen rises suddenly and looks at the sky. With that look of pure concentration on his young face, Jacen resembles so much like Kanan. But her thoughts are interrupted at the sound of an engine getting closer: she stares in the direction that Jacen is watching, and sees a ship flying toward them. 

Hera hasn’t witnessed the transport that Sabine and Ahsoka had used for this mission, but the paint on this vessel is a big giveaway: purrgils, and a flaming Phoenix turning around on each other. Pure Sabine, right there.

“Jacen. Come here,” Hera calls gently but firmly.

The boy doesn’t complain and runs to his mother. He press against her left side, clinging. Hera smiles and uses her finger to comb into his green hair. She can feel her heartbeat increase as she watches the ship land.

 _Ezra_ is inside there.

Hera has no idea in what shape he is in, nor how he looks after these years. But she doesn’t care. She only wants her son back. And then, her family can finally, truly begin to heal. The engines are powering down, and the ramp is lowering.

“Breath mommy,” Jacen whispers, squeezing her hand gently. 

Hera hadn’t realized that she was holding her breath.

Sabine is the first one down the ramp and she grins at them. “Aunty Bean!” Jacen yells happily and runs toward her. Hera smiles softly at the familiar woman, but her eyes are still focused on the ramp. She needs to see him. She cannot yet believe this is real.

Then, he finally, comes down.

Hera cannot stop the small gasp that escapes her lips. The young man is pretty tall--way taller than she ever expected that scrawny teenager they once recruited to grow. The beard is a surprise ,but she remembers how Ephraim Bridger had appeared in the holopic. (Clearly, the style looks good on his son, too). The scar on his cheek has become faint and is nearly covered by the beard, yet there are a few more that have been added. His hair is long and in a ponytail that reminds her a lot of Kanan. But what strikes her the most are those blue eyes. Even with all that he has lived and faced, they are still so bright and full of wonder. 

And unshared tears. 

“Hera….” Ezra says softly, his voice deeper but, right now, small and shaky.

He reminds her of Jacen’s voice after he has a bad dream. Her boy is _back_. “Ezra,” she says before walking toward him. She hasn’t made two steps before he runs into her arms. 

Hera cannot tell how long they hug. Or how long until they find themselves kneeling on the ground, or who shed the first tears. But when she finally lets go enough to glance at his face, the two moons of Lothal are rising, and Sabine has disappeared in the Ghost with Jacen.

Hera smiles tenderly as she cups Ezra’s cheeks in her hands, looking straight into his eyes. “Welcome home Ezra Bridger.” She whispers and leans to press a soft kiss on his forehead.

And, in the wilderness, the howl of happiness that resonates in the air: telling her that Lothal itself is welcoming its son back home once again.


	14. Going back to school/work  (Kallus&Zeb)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kallus looks at himself in the mirror, trying to find out what it is. Today is the first day going back into the field, but this time, it is as a rebel. Not an imperial. And he wants everything to be perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Could be seen a Kallus and Zeb friendship or pre-relationship. Depend of the goggles you put on.

_Something is wrong._

Kallus looks at himself in the mirror, trying to find out what it is. Today is the first day going back into the field, but this time, it is as a rebel. Not an imperial. And he wants everything to be perfect.

_Maybe it is the clothes?_

It has been a little more than two months, but Kallus is still not used to seeing himself in civvies. He is getting used to those loose and colourful clothes, still enjoying the softness of them. Most would think that he is bland; but after decades of grey, green and black colours, these ones are really flashy for him. However, upon inspection, the clothing seems to be fine: clean, and as much pressed as it should be.

_Then the jacket, maybe?_

No: the jacket in a good state, and well fitting. As he glances at the place where his rank bars had once hovered over his heart, he instantly knows what the one thing is that is bothering him so very much at this moment: the insignia, showing off his new captain’s rank. 

When General Syndulla had first presented him with the rank, he had refused it. Not because he’d lost so much rank in comparison to the one that he’d held in the Empire, but because he didn’t believe that he deserved the title. As Fulcrum, he had helped as much as he could; and yet, it never felt to him as though he had done enough. 

That he will ever do enough. 

Plus, he doesn’t feel as though he has the right to carry such authority over rebels that have been risking their life for years before himself already. To make the situation even worse, he occupies the same rank as his friend Garazeb. Kallus believes that he shouldn’t, when Zeb had given him the courage to finally open his eyes. Zeb deserves so much more than himself.

But this one detail that he has learned about Hera Syndulla: that she won’t take no for an answer. Not when she knows that her answer is right. 

Alexsandr is getting used to this trust in the high command of the Rebellion, including the position that they have put upon him. But if someone like Hera believes that it is right, he is going to do his best to accept it and try. 

Kallus looks away from his reflection when he hears someone knocking at his door.

“Come in,” he invites. 

“Hey Kallus! I’m going to the command centre and wanted to see if….” Zeb announces as he steps inside. “...Everything okay?” he asks, seeing Kallus’ face. He takes in his posture, the way that he is standing and looking uncertenly in the mirror.

“Yes, of course,” Alex answers looking at him. “You were saying?”

“Want to walk there together?” The lasat offers. “If you are ready.”

Kallus hesitates for a moment. He doesn't need to be babysat around the base still, but he knows that Zeb is only offering in order to be friendly to him. No other motive, other than wanting to be there. “I’m ready,” he answers. 

Zeb tilts his head a little as he looks him over. Kallus straightens up more as he uses all his ISB training to not blush under his careful, knowing gaze. Finally, Zeb moves closer and ruffles his well-combed hair until it falls loose. 

“There. That’s better,” he chuckles.

“Really, Garazeb?” Alex turns toward the mirror to fix them, but stops. This isn’t perfect; but that feels more _right_.

“There is no regulation here. You can keep them a bit more free. It kinda softens your image, a bit,” Zeb comments. He scratches the back of his head as he looks away.

“I think you are right,” Alex says softly. He finally picks up his datapad. “Let’s get going. I can’t be late.”

The lasat laughs and opens the door. “We are thirty minutes early already!”

“I know you, Garazeb. You will stop us by talking to everyone one the way!” Alex teases him as he steps out. He takes a deep breath, and looks toward the temple. Today, he is becoming a rebel officially. Right here, next to Zeb, in his loose-fitting uniform and imperfect hair.

And it feels _right._


	15. Make/build/create something beautiful (Kalluzeb)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day that Zeb had proposed, he’d given Kallus the choice for their upcoming ceremony: something closer to a human tradition, or the traditional, elaborate, lasat wedding rituals. It hadn’t been hard for Kallus to decide: Lira San is now his home, and Kallus wants to honour their culture and his to-be husband in any way that he can. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow up and conclusion of chapter 2 and chapter 8.  
> I try to create a ritual around Lasat's traditions.

The day that Zeb had proposed, he’d given Kallus the choice for their upcoming ceremony: something closer to a human tradition, or the traditional, elaborate, lasat wedding rituals. It hadn’t been hard for Kallus to decide: Lira San is now his home, and Kallus wants to honour their culture and his to-be husband in any way that he can. 

He finds that the ritual holds many parts, starting months before the bonding ceremony.

The first part of the rites seemed the easiest to Alex. For three days and two nights, he and Zeb had to hunt in the deep wilderness of Lira San’s forest. The goal was to see if they could work as a team in the face of danger and adversity. It was mostly be a formality, considering that they have faced so much more together. The wolf-boar was challenging, but they both had met far worse: the Empire, Darth Vader, two Death Stars, and Bahryn’s Bonzami, only to name only a few. 

It only takes them two days to get their prey and bring it home without too much trouble.

The second part was a little trickier, only because it wasn’t something that Kallus had ever done before: skinning and cutting the meat. It hadn’t been a senseless kill for them to prove their valour as warriors: nothing from this ritual is to be lost. The hide would be treated to become the leather of the wedding wrist guard, and the excess would be used in various places around their house. The meat would be prepared for the ceremonial feast to share with their guests, and the bones will be turned into tools or ground into fertilizer for their gardens. Even the sharp tusks would serve to engrave the leather, and then later, in the present of a ritual knife to each other. Anything that they couldn’t consume would given as an offering to the other forest creatures in honor of their ceremony. 

Alexsandr had managed his way surprisingly well through the second part of the lasat ritual. But today, he is facing the last step before their big ceremony: making the wrist guards. 

And _this_ is the part of their bonding that worries him most.

Kallus recognizes that he is good with his hands when it comes to mechanics, electronics and combat; but not so much for crafting and other kinds of gentle, artistic media. That is why he has looked to find a teacher to prepare him for this particular step. He’d chosen Gron as his teacher weeks before, and the older man has been really kind and patient with him as he teaches Kallus the basics of working and engraving leather with his hands.

Thankfully, Kallus has managed to make acceptable progress since Zeb’s proposal three months ago. 

As he works, Kallus finds that his training is paying off. The base of the leather isn’t too hard, and he works his way through that part well enough. But then he runs into a problem with the personalization, and the attempt to find a good design; for the wrist guard he is crafting for his mate is supposed to represent the moment, object and memories most important for them. And Alexsandr’s biggest headache is there so much that he wants to put on; so much that he wishes to say to Garazeb.

The beauty of their relationship cannot be contained to one, leather strap. 

It has been two days of work now, and Kallus still cannot make a single decision. It is driving him insane. _It shouldn’t be this hard._ Kallus sits down at the work table and looks at the piece of leather. _I have to finish this._ The celebration is coming fast, and he wants to be able to help with the last-minute organization. 

He wants to give the best of himself to Zeb. 

Kallus’ hand instinctively finds the promise necklace that Zeb had once offered him: the yellow, glowing rock, nested in his fiance’s honour guard medallion. It is so simple, but it has always meant so much to both of him. _That’s it! Finally!_

With relief, Kallus takes the borras tusk in his hand and gets to work. He needs to stop thinking and just let his hands do the talking. Now that he knows where he is going, he focuses deeply on his task, working until the first ray of sunlight.

Kallus puts his tools down as the soft orange light peeks from the window and hits the warm leather. It is done, and he can finally, really see what he has made. 

The centrepiece is an AB-75 and CJ-9 bo-rifle clashing together in front of a rock formation; above them, a representation of their meteorite, trimmed with a bouquet of vines and flowers. He runs his finger in the lines. So many important places: Lothal, where they had their first fight; Bahryn, where they found and understood each other; Yavin-IV, where their friendship developed into something more than friends; and, finally, Lira San: where had become their home.

The line work is not as perfect as he would want, and he can see some mistakes. But, maybe, that is making it good. After all, he’d learned from his mistakes, too. Zeb and Kallus didn’t always seem like they could be fitting together, being on opposite sides of the war for so long. But then, finally, they’d jointly managed to make it work together. 

They’d created something entirely new and beautiful.

Kallus gently put the wrist guard that he’s made into the wooden box. He knows that he is ready for their big day, and that he is ready for the start of their new life together. They’ll make something wonderful out of it, as they always do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that a wrap!
> 
> A Huge thank you to every single one of you that have taken time to comments, leave kudos and read. I hope those bring you a little comfort in this stranger year we have to face. 
> 
> Again thank you to chocolatemudkip for the beta reading. 
> 
> I wish all of you happy holidays and that 2021 threat you well and kindly. *big hug*

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to @chocolatemudkip for beta reading this. They manage to take my hot mess writing and made real gems. *big hugs*


End file.
